


Imitating Greatness

by Pandorascube



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 11:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19393621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandorascube/pseuds/Pandorascube
Summary: Gregory Goyle knows his roommate is up to something. What is Blaise Zabini doing?





	Imitating Greatness

“Those lacewings look ghastly.” Greg Goyle shook his head at his tall, dark skinned roommate. 

“Shut your gaping hole and stop hovering,” was the extent of Blaise Zabini’s reply, “You’re not even qualified to help me. Everyone knows Draco did the heavy lifting the last time you used Polyjuice.” He continued to focus on the task in front of him. It had been a long few weeks of brewing the complicated potion in their Slytherin dormitory, and his wardrobe was not an ideal potions lab. He finished the last counter clockwise stir and shot a disdainful look at his housemate. “You were supposed to be at Hogsmeade.”

“I forgot my wand,” Goyle mumbled.

“You’re a bloody wizard. How does that even happen?” Blaise wasn’t particularly surprised, of course, and Goyle shrugged, smirking. It was quite lucky that the Carrows were here now. Merlin knows Goyle’s status as the son of a Death eater was the only thing getting him through this year. “Are you leaving? I’m sure Malfoy has quite dastardly deeds planned for you and his other sidekick.”

“It didn’t look like that last time,” Goyle shifted his attention to the cauldron.

“I haven’t added the last ingredient yet,” Blaise sniffed, “Besides, who knows how long Malfoy even stewed his lacewing flies. He probably rushed it.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Goyle couldn’t help being intrigued. When he first noticed the suspicious activity around the wardrobe a few days ago, Zabini had been downright cagey. Goyle was not one for idle curiosity, but something told him this was big. He had not, in fact, forgotten his wand. Goyles were always attracted to power, and this reeked of power. He seated himself at the desk, turning the chair toward the wardrobe.

“I guess you aren’t leaving,” Zabini pursed his lips and sneered distastefully. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice sooner anyway. The smell must have blended in with your knickers.” Goyle stared expectantly in an answer. Perhaps an audience wasn’t a horrible thing. This was going to be fantastic. 

“Over the holiday break, my mother set me on the task of going through the dark artifacts her last husband left behind when he died. He was a Parseltongue who claimed to have Slytherin blood. I don’t even remember this one’s name, and I thought he was full of shite. Either way, there was no way she was going to slog through his reliquary or get caught with something nasty during a ministry raid.” Blaise paused, casting a silencing spell on the room. “ _ Revelio! _ ” He gestured to a spot on the ceiling right above him and a mundane looking scrapbook appeared. Another flick of his wrist and the book drifted into his hands.

“Who hides things in the ceiling?” Goyle was awed.

“ _ On _ the ceiling,” Blaise grinned at his own genius, “Sticking spell.” He preened, finally seeing the allure of having lackeys. He laid the book carefully open on the big four poster bed facing the wardrobe. Goyle rose, moving closer to see the burgundy tome. It was downright inconspicuous and unremarkable by design. Blaise flipped it open with a flourish. There were pages of carefully catalogued and dated swaths of hair. Goyle’s mouth dropped open as he struggled to comprehend the creepy collection. It read like a who’s who of historically significant wizards.  _ Ignotus Peverell, Balfour Blane, Cornelius Agrippa, Elfrida Clagg, _ and other names Goyle only recognized from his extensive Chocolate Frog card collection.

“We’re going to have so much fun, Goyle,” Blaise smirked, landing on a page dedicated only to the founders of the Hogwarts houses.

“Who gathered all this hair?” Goyle paled, finding himself much more included in this magical foray than originally intended. Blaise shrugged, increasing Goyle’s panic. “I don-” Blaise shushed his newfound accomplice with a comforting and somehow condescending pat on the shoulder.

“This is a gift horse. Let’s just ride it.” Blaise pulled a strand from the entry marked  _ Salazar Slytherin.  _ “Do you think this will make me a Parseltongue?” Goyle stayed silent as Blaise separated some of the polyjuice into a goblet for his first experiment. He dropped the hair carefully into the potion and watched gleefully as dark green swirled with black. He skoled the brew, wincing at the taste. His eyes closed as he felt the magic hit his stomach and begin to radiate through him. 

The potion hit quickly, and with a shudder, Blaise Zabini watched his hands as his skin changed before him. He rushed to the mirror next to his bed once the process settled in his bones. He almost recoiled at the noble figure gazing back through his own eyes. His usual height was matched, but somehow seemed more imposing. His hair was now long and white, peppered with gray and black strands, and he had a long shapely beard to match. His eyes were sunken and piercing, like a hawk ever ready for the hunt. His nose was similarly crooked, and thin lips pursed in an unforgiving sneer. He chuckled, a booming and unfamiliar sound from his new form.

“Now what are we doing?” Goyle said softly, face rapt with awe.

“Anything we want.”


End file.
